


quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic (your heart is prosthetic)

by ElasticElla



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: I heard a rumor that Vanya is first chair.
Relationships: Helen Cho/Allison Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic (your heart is prosthetic)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



> title from blue october's x-amount of words

_I heard a rumor that Vanya is first chair._

It’s stupid, and petty as fuck, and goddamn it makes her feel like a teenager again, ruled by her emotions. There was a reason she had to grow up fast – besides the fame, besides her skin, besides her powers, besides, besides, besides – 

The worst part is she didn’t even do it for Vanya, not out of any sisterly devotion or apology for the past. It only took one run-in with the uppity violinist for the idea to form, irresistible as her tacky dollar store red lipstick. (Allison can already see it smeared between her thighs, cartoonishly vivid.)

Watching the orchestra rehearse is a proper punishment for backsliding into habits she swore she quit. Not because the music’s bad – Reginald has too much sway even in death for any of them to live mediocre lives – but because she doesn’t care for the genre. Unsurprisingly, Reginald forcing them to listen to classical music made her hate it. Hearing the same song over and over in real time doesn’t help, and her attention keeps wandering to Helen. 

Professional or good at hiding her emotions, Helen gives no sign of the demotion affecting her. She doesn’t glare at Vanya or the conductor, merely looks focused on the sheet music. 

Vanya is all smiles afterwards when she spots her in the near empty theater. There’s even a light flush on her cheeks as she fiddles with her violin. 

“I didn’t uh, think you’d come – I mean I’m really glad you’re here.”

Helen meets her eyes from a distance, and Allison puts on her Hollywood smile, refocusing on Vanya. “Couldn’t miss your chair upgrade sis. How about some celebration milkshakes?” 

Vanya agrees, and walking out of the theater, it feels like a weight’s been lifted off her chest. Can breathe easy without Helen’s assessing gaze. 

.

They make it through half of the fries before Vanya gets a phone call and rushes out. They’ve been getting better at small talk, neatly evaded discussing the past and Claire. Good enough that Allison was kind of guiltily happy she had to go, that there’s at least one instance Allison can point to and go, ‘see? we can be good sisters, didn’t argue once’.

Allison’s dipping a fry into her strawberry milkshake when someone slides into the vacated seat. 

“Sorry I’m not-” the automatic dismissal dies on her lips as she sees Helen, a jolt of something tearing through her stomach. “Stalking us now?” 

Helen drills her fingernails on the linoleum table top, perfect square French tips. Her pretty cheap lipstick is twisted into an almost snarl, “Let me guess: I heard a rumor that Vanya is first chair?” 

Dread washes through her at the exact phrasing, but Helen doesn’t stop there. “Or maybe, I heard a rumor that my sister matters? I heard a rumor that Vanya actually has talent? I heard-” 

“Shut up,” Allison hisses. 

“Did you even tell her what you did?” 

Her face must betray the truth, as a sharp laugh cracks out of Helen, attracting too much attention. Allison stands up, can't be goaded into reacting publicly. 

“No, wait,” Helen says, grabbing her wrist, nails scratching the underside. “How long do you think it’ll take the conductor to remember her playing is rote? How long before she’s back in the background like she belongs?” 

Allison doesn’t answer, walking out. The wind cuts through her clothes, and she crosses her arms tight, walking home. 

She hadn’t thought about the fallout. (‘Typical’, per usual, Dad’s voice is the least helpful.) She’d only thought of taking her sister’s coworker, band mate, orchestra mate – whatever, down a peg. Of ripping off her prissy stockings, making her beg, cry for it and finally whispering in her ear – 

A car horn startles her, shakes her out of the fantasy. She has a few hiccups to smooth out with the rumor, that’s all. She’s not going to start rumoring everyone that stands in the way of what she wants, not like before. Not going to let her normal life go so easily. (Fuck, she could lose visitation rights with Claire over this, had been so carefully not thinking about that possibility.) 

The violinist was just a minor trip off the wagon; Allison's getting right back on. Won't give _Helen_ another thought. 

(She's still going to the next practice. To support Vanya, that's all.)


End file.
